


Ineffably, I do

by Wanna_be_goodr



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Wedding!, fluffy nonsense, toit nups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanna_be_goodr/pseuds/Wanna_be_goodr
Summary: Angel meets demon. Armageddon doesn't happen. Demon proposes. Angel and demon get married.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 31





	Ineffably, I do

**Author's Note:**

> This is, again, nonsense. But I liked writing it, I had an idea (when I should have been asleep) about a tartan tie for Crowley and silk tie for Aziraphale when they got married... this happened... enjoy?

'Love of my life, can't you see?'

Mrs Shadwell plays the beginning of an excellent rendition of Queen's 'Love of My Life', and Aziraphale grins wider than he ever has before, happier than anyone has ever been in the history of the entire world.

Well, almost anyone. Because while an angel stands under a beautifully crafted archway adorned with white and red roses and fairy lights, embodying pure joy and bliss, a demon sits in his car, grumbling to it about ties. Despite obvious appearances, this demon is the actual happiest a being has ever been or will ever be. He is so enthused, so joyous, so completely thrilled, that his stupid bloody bow tie doesn't even bother him that much.

As Freddie Mercury's beautiful words are only infinitesimally butchered by Mrs Shadwell, Crowley catches his own eye in the Bentley's rear-view mirror. Show time.

He takes an unnecessary breath and steps out of the car, into his future. How poetic. Except, he's been stepping into his future every time he's taken a step since the dawn of time. So, realistically, Crowley walks. But this walk is interesting, because at the end of it is Aziraphale. And while Crowley has always been moving towards Aziraphale, this movement is different because he is never going to move anywhere alone, ever again. At the end of this walk, Crowley will see the only reason (apart from immortality) he lives, and will marry it. Officially.

Crowley isn't nervous as the archway and his angel come into sight, No, for the first time probably ever, he is calm. Because although he is still absolutely obsessed with his soon-to-be-husband, he's already done the hard part: popping the question. The nerves he'd felt that evening in the Ritz were the worst thing his body had experienced, and Crowley intermittently turns into an actual serpent.  
Crowley isn't nervous; he is excited, ready, eager. It's all he can do not to sprint down the aisle, scoop Aziraphale up in his snakey arms, and plant one on him right now. But he'll have to wait, their next kiss will be their new first.

As Crowley nears, Aziraphale resists turning around with (obviously) inhuman strength. He loves knowing that Crowley will be slightly irritated about that, and that he will absolutely forget about it, and everything else in his head, the minute he properly sees Aziraphale. 

Smug bastard angel.

Crowley draws close, and then the two are standing next to each other, Anathema suppressing a grin in front of them. Finally, angel and demon lay hungry and loving eyes on each other, and gasp in unison.

Crowley can’t believe what’s in front of him. He knew about the slightly unorthodox colour choice for his angel, but the pearly grey of his tuxedo is unexpectedly perfect. It somehow brings out the ocean in his eyes and highlights the cherubic features of his face. Maybe not all of that is the suit, but Crowley can’t think too hard about anything because his eyes have just settled on his lover’s tie, tracing an elegant line down Aziraphale’s chest. It’s grey, and silk, and… exquisite.

Aziraphale can’t believe what’s in front of him. He knew about the slightly unorthodox colour choice for his demon, but the dark grey of his tuxedo is unexpectedly perfect. It manages to smooth Crowley’s harshest angles and contour his seductive lines – simple, sinful, second to none. And – oh goodness, the tie! It’s tied in a perfectly proportioned bow, it’s cotton, and it’s tartan. It’s grey tartan, for the love of everything! It’s… exquisite.

Their grey suits, their swapped ties, are perfectly fitting for them. These two idiots have formed their own side, neither light nor dark. Their outfits illustrate that side… their grey area.

Anathema officiates, beginning with a reading from Hamlet, an odd choice for a wedding – just as angel is an odd choice for a demon – but somehow, it fits perfectly. Then, the two exchange rings.

Aziraphale takes Crowley’s hand and lines up the wedding band on his fourth finger.

“Crowley. You are, at heart, just a little bit of a good person.”

“Aziraphale, you are, deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing,” Crowley replies, slipping the matching ring onto Aziraphale’s finger.

Aziraphale, do you take this demon to be your husband?”

“I do.”

“Crowley, do you-?”

“I do.”  
Rolling her eyes at the eager demon’s interruption, Anathema continues, “Then I now pronounce you married. You may kiss!”

And this new first kiss, this next chapter of their lives, is even more wonderful than they both imagined. And neither of them can wait for the honeymoon…


End file.
